


having the pain means there was once pleasure

by tisziny



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: 2x07, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-29 20:54:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisziny/pseuds/tisziny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sir! I hope I’ve done the right thing calling you in. I know motor vehicle accidents aren’t your department but-” Hugh trailed off as Jack shook his head slightly, holding up a hand.</p><p>His throat felt like it was about to close up but still Jack spoke, “I just want to see her.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The moment he arrived to the scene he saw it. The car crashed into a tree, a figure in the driver’s seat covered by a sheet. His stomach felt like lead in his gut, his heart pounding in his ears.

No. She can’t be, she can’t be dead. 

He parked his own car carefully and slowly stepped out. He felt sick. Collins had called him in saying there had been a motor vehicle accident but hearing those words and seeing the sheet in the car… They were two very different things. 

All he could think about was the football match they had attended. He’d almost kissed her; his scarf around her neck, he’d pulled her in close but stopped short at the last moment. He was a coward. And his former wife had been sitting right there, it wouldn’t be proper. Not that Miss Fisher ever seemed to care for proper.

He should have done it. He should have kissed her.

He should have accepted her night cap weeks before in the lethal dress she’d modelled so perfectly. The dangerous hour it had been, he would have easily fallen into her bed had the moment arisen. But instead he had turned away from her intense stare. He had taken the chicken’s way out after giving her his scarf and now he had missed his chance for good.

His steps wavered as he walked forward. He could have had weeks of bliss with her and now he would have an eternity without her.

Collins noticed his arrival and began to speak.

“Sir! I hope I’ve done the right thing calling you in. I know motor vehicle accidents aren’t your department but-” Hugh trailed off as Jack shook his head slightly, holding up a hand.

His throat felt like it was about to close up but still Jack spoke, “I just want to see her.”

He walked forward without staking his eyes from the crisp white sheet. There was blood on it.

Stopping next to the driver’s side door Jack looked down at the body and tried to collect himself. The sight of her body, even with the sheet still covering her, pulled at his heart painfully. She was dead. Her recklessness had finally gotten the better of her and here she was lifeless before him in some god damned race car.

Swallowing back tears Jack took his hat off to her, holding it to his chest as he tried so hard to keep breathing evenly. He placed it carefully on the car behind her seat and slowly took hold of the sheet, lifting it over her head, preparing himself to see her still body.

But it wasn’t her face he saw.

With a frown he folded back the sheet and finally pulled his gaze away to look up at Collins.

“Who is this?” he asked,

“Gertrude Haynes,” The ghost herself, Phryne Fisher spoke from somewhere behind him, and Jack turned to look at her in raw shock, “Though she preferred Gerty.”

“Miss Fisher arrived when I was awaiting the coroner, sir.” Collins explained, “She knew the deceased and requested your attendance. I relayed a message-“

“Just passing by, were you?” Jack asked, aware his tone was sharper than usual.

“You know better than that, Jack.” Phryne replied, “My Adventurers’ Club was sponsoring Gerty’s entry into the Road Rally Race this Saturday.”

A knife twisted in his gut, her words a painful reminder of how easily this could have been her. “Your Adventurers’ Club.” He swallowed thickly.

“For likeminded women,” She explained. “I’m Madame President.”

“Of course you are.”

The day’s work did nothing to soothe the heart ache he’d felt seeing that body and believing it to be hers. She herself seemed to be going out of her way to remind him just how reckless a driver she was. He tried to soothe himself that night with a drink, perhaps two. But she’d arrived in his office ready to discuss their case as if he hadn’t started the morning believing she were dead.

She treaded to close to the truth without even realising the issue at hand and he left shortly. A restless night’s sleep later he awoke to start it all again. Another tough day was a head of him, though tonight he joined Miss Fisher at her home, discussing their theories over whiskey and a game of draughts. Her smile was mischievous and any other night would have been a source of great temptation and frustration, tonight however, he hadn’t the will to return her flirting. He could barely hold eye contact, near unable to look at her at all.

He lost their game to her and she called him out. 

Looking firmly to her carpet he came clean about the message he’d received, what he had thought to be true, then when her comforting words began he fled. 

There was only one thing he could do. As soon as this case was solved he would have to… part ways with Miss Fisher.


	2. Chapter 2

He had never been very adept at talking about his emotions, but when it came to this -to Phryne- he would try. Jack considered what he would say the entire drive to her house, but words simply failed him. He was, yet again, a coward to his own heart. 

How could he tell her the truth? His desires were unrequited; despite her flirtatious attitude he knew that to be true. And he could never ask her to change herself for him, would never be able to control her reckless behaviour no matter how much he wanted to protect her. She wasn’t the kind of woman to bend to a man’s wishes and she had proved to him time and time again she was very adequate at protecting herself.

Unfortunately she was also the one she needed protecting from; with her love of adventure and her cavalier attitude to danger and self-preservation.

But she was important to him, and she deserved to know at least in part why he was doing what he was doing.

“When I thought it was you in that wreckage,” he told her slowly, his voice low and soft. He pulled his sad gaze from her gentle face, looking down as he continued. “I found it unbearable.”

She watched as he struggled, murmuring in her own soft tones, “Sounds serious.”

“It is.”

“I am who I am Jack,” She told him, “I can’t give that up.”

“I’m not asking you to give it up.” He said, his eyes meeting hers once more. “I would never ask you to do that.”

Phryne looked at him carefully, realisation washing over her. When she spoke her voice wavered, just a little, just enough he would have missed it if he wasn’t trying to drink in the sight of her, so tragically beautiful on that lounge, looking up at him with saddened eyes.

“So you’re giving up me instead?”

He looked away, blinking back tears as he tried to swallow his emotions. 

“What we do best,” she continued, “Us, together, you’d sacrifice that?”

She had tears forming in her own eyes, but she didn’t blink them away as he had. She wore them defiantly, looking up at him with sorrow etched across her face.

Again her voice wavered as she spoke, the tears trying to push through, “If you did that, Jack, I would feel- I would feel like it was you lying in the wreckage. Please can you think about that?” 

She ended in a whisper and Jack closed his eyes, his heart aching so painfully in his chest.

“I will.” He told her. And with that he turned and made his way down her hall, leaving her quite alone, to sit and simply watch him go.

It came as a surprise to him then, when he reached his car, to hear her voice calling out his name.

Jack turned to see her rushing down her path to his car. Her tears had escaped her eyes and he saw the tracks they made across her cheeks catch the light coming from her parlour window.

“You can’t just decide to let me go Jack,” she told him, her voice clearly pained by the very idea; “I refuse to accept it. I refused to be given up like some bad habit you want to get rid of.”

His throat tightened, “Phryne,” he murmured thickly, “Please.”

“ _No_.” Her eyes flashed dangerously and she placed her hands on her hips, “You’re going to come back inside with me right now, Jack, and we’re going to talk about this properly.”

“Miss Fisher, I-”

“That’s an order, Inspector.” Her tone was sharp and Jack closed his eyes, resigned. He followed her slowly back to her door and again stepped into her parlour.

He sat his posture tense as Phryne sat next to him. She was closer than she’d usually be. He could feel his skin flutter with goose bumps as his hair stood on end. Silently she took his hand.

“Jack.” She murmured softly, “I want you to face me, please. I want you to look at me.”

Slowly he did as she requested, looking up into her eyes and turning his body slightly on the lounge to face her. 

She raised his hand, pressing it to cup her cheek and holding it there, leaning into his touch. Then she reached out her spare hand, taking his and laying it over her chest so he could feel her heart beating there. They’re shared gaze never once broke during her slow movements, but as her grip on his hands relaxed Jack pulled away.

“I’ve explained my position very clearly, Miss Fisher.” He said, standing up, “I’ll, I’ll take your views into consideration.”

“Jack you can’t seriously believe this will help.” Phryne exclaimed, she too standing from the lounge.

“Miss Fisher I-”

“No Jack, you need to listen.” She insisted, “I did not die, and I have no plans of doing so. But pushing me away will do nothing to make it hurt less if I do.”

She glared up at him, breathing heavily through her nose.

“If anything at all I’d imagine it would only make it hurt more.” She told him, “And, if you do decide to go down that path, Jack, I want you to know how utterly upset that would make me. Which is to say I would find it unbearable, and I would be- I would be so heartbroken.”


	3. Chapter 3

When Jack made no response to her words Phryne let her eyes flicker to the floor in defeat. Jack was a stubborn man, and it appeared he had already made his mind up on this.

 

Looking up one last time Phryne pressed a gentle hand to Jack’s chest, then leant in and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

 

“Goodbye, Jack.” She murmured.

 

With a heavy heart and every mind to request one or three of Mr Butler’s cocktails before retreating to bed, Phryne stepped to one side and began to move past the Inspector. Before she could take more than too steps, however, she was pulled back, a warm hand on her wrist.

 

“Phryne.” She turned to see Jack looking at her, an odd expression of awe, perhaps a little hope in his wise eyes.

 

“I- Are you-” He fumbled his words, but looked at her carefully. She could almost pinpoint the moment he decided to try his hand at recklessness.

 

In one fluid movement he pulled on her wrist and drew her in close, cupping her cheek with his free hand and leaning in until he pressed his mouth to hers in a kiss. Phryne gasped softly in surprise but didn’t try and resist. Instead she allowed herself to melt under his touch, feeling warmth spread pleasantly through her like the burn of whiskey down her throat or the steaming water of a hot bath over her body.

 

Her lips parted of their own accord, but Phryne decided to take charge, deepening the kiss, gripping tightly at Jack’s lapel with her available hand, moaning devilishly as he gave as good as he got.

 

When they eventually parted, both flushed in the face and breathing deeply, neither made a move to step back. Their warm breaths mingled between their faces and Phryne smiled brightly, her eyes sparkling. Jack couldn’t help but to smile warmly back.

 

“I was rather hoping you might do that.” She murmured softly,

 

“I couldn’t resist the temptation any longer.”

 

He released her wrist in favour of sliding his hand over her back and in turn she placed her now free hand over his arm, moving up to his shoulder as she moved in closer, her body pressed flush against his.

 

“I don’t suppose,” she whispered softly, pausing to kiss his lips again simply, “You have any other temptations you want to indulge in tonight.”

 

“There is one.” He murmured gruffly.

 

“Hmmm?”

 

“I’d rather like,” he spoke slowly, his hands exploring over her back and along her sides, “to tell you, Miss Fisher, how assiduously I care for you.”

 

“I care for you too, Jack.” Phryne smiled softly, “In fact I’d go as far to say I rather love you.”

 

A warm smile the likes of which Phryne had never seen bloomed across Jack’s face. His fingers gripped at her back gently, and he met her bright eyes with his own, “I love you too,” he spoke, “Phryne.”

 

“About time you said it, Jack.” And she leaned up to kiss him sweetly, her fingers finding the back of his neck and delving into his hair.

 

He wound his arms around her waist, holding her impossibly closer before they eventually broke apart for air.

 

“I should probably go.” Jack murmured, “It’s late.”

 

“Nonsense,” Phryne told him, “You’re going to sit down with me and have a drink, then we’re going to go up to my bedroom together and-”

 

“That’s hardly appr-”

 

She held up a hand to silence him, “ _And_ ,” she continued, “You are going to lie in my bed and hold me as I sleep so I know this is all reality and not some cruel dream when I wake up in the morning. Is that acceptable, Jack?”

 

Jack gaped slightly, but cleared his throat and nodded, “Yes, Phryne. Of course.”

 

She smiled impishly, “Good.”

 

Slowly they moved back to the lounge, Jack sat and Phryne procured them both a drink of whiskey. She sat close to him and he wound an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer as she smirked and clinked her glass with his.

 

“I suppose a toast is in order,” Jack murmured. He thought a moment then said, “To temptation, and knowing when to control it.”

 

Phryne laughed happily and once again brought her glass to his before raising it to her lips. They drank, curled into each other in her parlour, enjoying the silence and the simplicity of the moment; their hearts and minds as light as air. Soon the whiskey ran dry and Phryne found her eyes heavy. She suppressed a gentle yawn into her hand; her head resting comfortably against Jack’s shoulder and heard his low voice reverberate through his chest.

 

“Perhaps it is time we retired to sleep, Miss Fisher.”

 

“I think you may be right, Jack.”

 

Gathering the last of her strength Phryne sat up from her place in Jack’s side and stood. He followed suit and accepted Phryne’s hand, allowing her to lead him slowly from the parlour and up the stairs to her bedroom. Stepping inside Phryne’s tired eyes flashed mischievously in the moonlight. She turned and kissed the Inspector softly, her hands working quickly and expertly, stripping him of his clothes until he stood before her in just his shoes and underthings.

 

He swallowed thickly and stepped out of his shoes, before Phryne held her hands out to him.

 

She guided his grasp over her own clothes, his large hands pulling them gracefully from her until she too stood in only her camiknickers.

 

Kissing him softly once more Phryne turned to the bed and pulled back the covers, sliding inside and holding an arm out. He followed, climbing in the bed after her, and pulled the covers comfortably around them before -with just a little encouragement- he wound his arms around Phryne and held her close; closing his eyes and falling quickly and easily into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this little dabble into Miss Fisher fic. I'm about to go on a holiday for a few weeks but when I come back I'm sure I'll be inspired to write another.


End file.
